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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25863877">To get there means crossing a line</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/labelladonna99/pseuds/labelladonna99'>labelladonna99</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accessory, Alternate Scene, Complicity, Do you massage all of your patients Dr. Lecter?, First Time, M/M, Massage as therapy, Post-Episode: s01e09 Trou Normand, Seduction, Seduction to the Dark Side, Sexy Times, What-If, Will is tense</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:35:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,344</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25863877</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/labelladonna99/pseuds/labelladonna99</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal persuades Will to keep Abigail's secret. What other boundaries might they violate? An alternate ending to Trou Normand</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>To get there means crossing a line</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Will stood before the tall windows, his back to Dr. Lecter, and stared out at the night through a veil of sheer, gauzy curtains. The sky had grown dark since Will had left to drive here, but it was nothing like the obsidian blackness of nights in Wolf Trap that made moonlight and stars seem like old friends. </p><p>“It isn't our place to decide--" he began, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest and the sensation of his shoulders being hunched up around his ears.</p><p>"--if not ours, then whose?” Dr. Lecter interrupted. “Who knows Abigail better than you and I? Or the burden she bears? We are her fathers now. We have to serve her better than Garrett Jacob Hobbs. If you go to Jack, then you murder Abigail's future." </p><p>Abigail had lied and Dr. Lecter had protected her secret but his words now were true. An investigation into the death of Nicholas Boyle would likely deal an irrevocable blow to Abigail’s already notorious reputation as the daughter of a serial killer. The faint headache that had followed Will all day pulsed in time with the odd, ancient sounding music drifting from the speakers. Classical music was always playing in Dr. Lecter’s surroundings, but this was more like church music - although not any church that Will had ever attended. His mind supplied an image of a medieval monastery, with a grey dove in flight, weaving its way through the exposed rafters.</p><p>“Do I need to call my lawyer, Will?" Hannibal’s question lifted the curtain on Will's daydream, returning them to the psychiatrist’s office. Will knew without looking that the good doctor was watching his profile, assessing the possibilities, as if there were any.</p><p>What choice did he have, when the right thing felt wrong and the wrong thing also seemed… not right? Would telling Jack the truth help anyone? It wouldn’t save Nicholas Boyle. What about Abigail, orphaned and traumatized? He and Dr. Lecter were all she had now. The singer’s voice echoed in Will’s skull, soaring and dipping with the melody, an angelic chorus giving voice to his dilemma. Or perhaps it was a horror-movie soundtrack — who could ever tell the difference? He knew what his answer would be. He was damned either way. Unable to speak without spilling every drop of doubt and fear sloshing in his gut, Will turned to Dr. Lecter and gave a conflicted but unambiguous shake of his head. There. Now he too was complicit.</p><p>"We can tell no one," said Dr. Lecter, stepping closer.  "What we are doing here is the right thing. In time, this will be the only story any of us cares to tell.”</p><p>Will had already turned back to the window when he felt Dr. Lecter’s hand on his shoulder. It was a light touch, lacking pressure, almost tentative, which was certainly not a word he’d ever thought to associate with the psychiatrist he’d been having “conversations” with. This was a hell of a conversation alright.</p><p>The weight of the hand on Will’s shoulder grew almost imperceptibly heavier. One quick squeeze of strong fingers, the hand retreated and a small cold shiver went through Will’s body. He held back the breath that wanted to escape in a loud exhale. How absurd that a momentary comforting touch could be so unnerving, but Will’s senses were heightened, alert to every rustling of cloth and displacement of air made by the man now drawing away from him.</p><p>Outside Dr. Lecter’s window, all was calm. This part of the city was quiet after business hours, the glow of the streetlights illuminating the empty street and only the occasional car passing through to ruin the lonely still life. Will should leave now. He could leave at any time.</p><p>Finally, Will let the sigh sneak out, wondering why he bothered with this facade of calm indifference when Dr. Lecter saw everything, as if Will's thoughts were printed on his forehead in the doctor’s native language. Will sighed again and, as if in answer, two hands came to rest casually atop his shoulders in a friendly, almost fatherly gesture.</p><p>“Relax, Will. You are quite tense,” Dr. Lecter said, in a tone that was both warm and commanding. </p><p>“Tension is my natural state,” Will answered. Being told to relax tended to have the opposite effect on most people and Will was no different, yet he did feel some of the habitual rigidity of his body begin to ebb. Dr. Lecter’s hands slid outward across his shoulders, and then back towards his neck, pressing fingers and thumbs into Will’s muscles, releasing and digging in again.</p><p>“Dr. Lecter,” Will nearly croaked, “what are you doing?” and then stifled a grunt of embarrassment at the sound of the doctor softly chuckling behind him.</p><p>“Massage can be quite therapeutic for the mind as well as the body. It’s one of the ancient healing arts. Texts from many cultures indicate that the practice of massage predates recorded history.” Warm fingers squeezed and kneaded Will’s flesh.</p><p>Will felt his rib cage loosen and his breathing ease into a slower rhythm. His headache was fading and the ethereal music offered a soothing accompaniment to the stress leaving his body. “Are you in the habit of massaging all of your patients?” </p><p> “Are you my patient now, Will? I thought we were having conversations.”</p><p>“Whatever we are, this seems to cross some sort of boundary. It’s not the only line we’ve crossed tonight, is it?” Will turned his head to see the doctor’s reaction, but Dr. Lecter’s unperturbed gaze was on the hands traveling across Will’s trapezius muscles. With the pads of his fingers, he traced circles alongside Will’s cervical spine, finding all of the sore spots and pressing hard into them. It was a delicious kind of pain, relieving tightness in the places that Will’s body tended to store all of its anxiety.</p><p>“Tell me, Will. Do you ever feel hemmed in by boundaries or do you use them to protect yourself from the things you fear?” </p><p>“Yes,” Will said, amused by Dr. Lecter’s smooth segue into their typical routine. “I suppose now you’re going to tell me what I’m afraid of. This should be interesting.”</p><p>“That’s far too easy. You fear yourself, of course. What you’re capable of…” Dr. Lecter’s voice dipped lower. “...what you desire…You fear loss of control.” </p><p>Now the doctor’s fingers were moving in slow circles up the sides of Will’s neck and onto his scalp, gently brushing through his hair. This was not part of their usual game. Warmth emanated from the places Dr. Lecter touched, radiating from Will’s scalp down his spine and out toward his limbs. His arms tingled and his legs felt ready to betray him. The other man’s hands roaming through his hair short-circuited Will’s ability to keep up with the doctor’s challenging banter. The heat spread to his torso and lower until Will was mortified to realize he had an erection. His fevered brain was too confused to discern whether that was Dr. Lecter’s intention or if this apparent seduction was all in his mind.</p><p>Barely above a whisper, he asked, “Is this still therapy, Dr. Lecter?” </p><p>The answer came swiftly, from a mouth that was almost kissing Will’s ear, with a fervent near-whisper that matched his own. “It is whatever you wish it to be. Is therapy what you desire….or is there something more that you seek?” Dr. Lecter eased closer, revealing with a small movement of his pelvis against Will that he, too, was aroused.</p><p>Endorphins danced along Will’s nerve endings, leaping like ecstatic ballet dancers in thrall to the music that had reached a heavenly crescendo.</p><p>“Something more…” Will answered softly. Dr. Lecter slipped an arm around Will’s waist, pulling them closer together as his hand skimmed Will’s abdomen and coasted just inside the waistband of his trousers. His movements were a maddeningly slow and glorious torture. Will’s consciousness stepped outside of himself, observing Dr. Lecter’s mouth nipping and biting at his neck, one hand gripping Will’s hair and the other sliding deeper inside his pants. A moment later, Will was purely a body, participating fully in the seduction with no thought of consequences.</p><p>“What now, Will? Shall we cross another boundary?” Dr. Lecter asked.</p><p>Will inhaled sharply as sure fingers grasped his erection. “I’m already in another state.” </p><p>Dr. Lecter stroked upward with one hand while the other loosened Will’s trousers. “Not your natural state of tension, then? An altered state, perhaps?” </p><p>“Oh it’s altared,” Will breathed. “Like a sacrificial lamb.”</p><p>“Clever.” Dr. Lecter said, before biting into the side of Will’s neck to coax a groan of pleasurable pain. His hands continued to stroke and tease, exploring Will’s limits, which were rapidly eroding. “If you are the lamb I can only devour you once. I prefer to think of you as a delectable dessert, a cake that I may still have after I have eaten it.”</p><p>Will groaned again, this time at the lame analogy. “Has  anybody ever told…...ohhhh!”  He interrupted himself when Dr. Lecter found a steady rhythm that did incredible things to his heart rate.</p><p>“Yes? What did you wish to tell me?” the psychiatrist murmured, sounding smug as he rubbed their faces together, still stroking Will’s dick and pressing his erection against Will’s ass.</p><p>“Mmmm.” Will’s mind was losing coherence, moving past the point of intelligible speech as his body flooded with sensation. “Your …. uhhhh …. your food puns. They’re terrible.”</p><p>“Less talking then, I think,” Dr. Lecter pronounced. With a flourish, he swept Will up in his arms, took several steps to deposit him on the chaise, and climbed on top of him. Shoving Will’s shirt up to his armpits, he bent to kiss, suck and bite his way up Will’s torso, making the rudest noises, before finding Will’s mouth. Gentle kisses alternated with little bites and licks, gradually becoming more demanding and desperate, matching the increasingly frantic thrusting of their hips.</p><p>Will was lost. He relinquished all thinking and gave himself up to the moment, wrapping his legs around the man atop him, seeking more contact, more friction, more everything. His hands tugged at Dr. Lecter's vest. “Take this off,” Will demanded and the good doctor complied, ridding himself of the vest and shirt, then pushing his pants and Will’s out of the way before sinking back down. </p><p>Now Will could participate more actively. He explored every part of the doctor he could reach, as they devoured each other with lips and tongues and teeth. The landscape of Will’s body was alight with small fires in all the places Dr. Lecter’s hands and mouth visited.</p><p>“Ahhh,” he cried out in wordless appreciation of just how clever and multifaceted Dr. Lecter’s tongue could be. “Ohhh, God…” </p><p>The  man was an utter tease, stopping to grin up at Will and say, “I think we can be on a first name basis now, Will.” His hands were wet and slippery, although Will had no idea how the handful of lube had gotten there. It didn’t matter. Those amber eyes were locked on Will’s face, stunning cheek bones standing out in relief against the silver-streaked sandy hair falling over them,</p><p>“I want to watch you lose yourself in ecstasy,” Hannibal said without a hint of irony at his sexual conceit. And rightly so, Will had to admit with whatever functioning brain cells he had left as Hannibal pleasured every part of him at once. They’d been at it for what felt like ages, he’d been on the brink and then eased back multiple times, and he was convinced that if Hannibal would ever let him come, he was going to die in the throes of the best orgasm of his entire life. </p><p>Death by fucking. What a way to go. “Come for me, now my beautiful, remarkable Will. Let me see you undone.” Hannibal’s grip tightened and he stroked hard, once, twice, a third time and then he slipped two fingers inside Will. Exquisite heat ran like electricity through Will’s veins, his breath raced out of his lungs, a wildly beating heart threatened to fly out of his chest like a songbird from a cage, and then he really did let go with a force that felt atomic rocketing through him.</p><p>“Jeez, ohhh!!! Hannibal, Hann — ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!”</p><p>It seemed like hours before Will was resurrected. His eyes fluttered open to see Hannibal stroking himself, eyes closed, mouth hanging open, his head tilted back as if in a plea to the gods. His breathing accelerated until, with a guttural cry, he was spilling come on Will’s chest. If Will hadn’t already expended every last atom of energy in the known universe, he would have had another orgasm at the sight of Hannibal Lecter coming all over him in worship.</p><p>“Amen, indeed,” Hannibal chuckled.</p><p>Will blushed. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.</p><p>Hannibal produced a handkerchief and wiped Will clean, then settled beside him on the chaise.</p><p>“Never be ashamed of your feelings, Will. Not with me. We are bonded now, a family. You, me, and Abigail.”</p><p>Will couldn’t resist a sardonic rejoinder. “A family of orphans. Although I suspect Freddie Lounds would have other words for what we are.”</p><p>“You mustn’t worry so about what others may think. How Ms. Lounds chooses to describe us is of no consequence. We are free men, are we not?”</p><p>The answer lay in metaphor more than literal fact. Will knew that and so did Hannibal. For all of his uncanny ability to know Will’s mind better than Will knew himself, even Hannibal couldn’t peer inside. He couldn’t see through Will’s eyes or paint the images that formed in Will’s overactive brain. That was part of the attraction, an endless dance of imagination and interpretation, translating thoughts and dreams into a language they could share.</p><p>High above them, a grey dove fluttered its wings beneath the rafters, captivated by the voices below, while light and air poured through the open windows. </p><p>“I’m not sure we’re ever truly free,” Will said. “Maybe that’s ok.”</p>
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